Babysitting for the Boss
by AnonOrange-FFA
Summary: Grunts have to prove themselves before they can become Executives. Only the best are assigned to the most important job of all.
1. Proton

Some days, Proton struggled to remember why he ever thought joining Team Rocket was a good idea. He'd been perfectly happy dabbling in petty crime. Well, maybe not perfectly happy but he'd seen nothing wrong with living day to day the way he had, stealing, starting fights, breaking shop windows in Celadon City.

But that had all changed suddenly.

Like everyone else in the big cities and towns he heard the rumours. But instead of fearing the new gangs, Proton had sought out as much information as he could and within the week he'd thrown himself into the firing line. He'd picked a fight with a Rocket. But not any Rocket, no, Proton had always done things properly. He'd picked a fight with the boss.

xxxxx

The early years had been better than his _pathetic attempts at criminal activity_, as the other new recruits called it, better by far. Even the smallest criminal acts were so much easier, more satisfying, when you had a full team of like-minded colleagues by your side. It didn't matter that he couldn't care less about Team Rocket's ultimate goal when he'd joined; he was the kind of person that they were looking for. When he thought about it, Proton couldn't even remember when he'd moved from enjoying the crime to enjoying the suffering it brought. Schadenfreude, the Boss had called it once.

By the time Team Rocket had expanded enough to take over Celadon and Saffron cities combined, Proton thought that he'd be on the front line. He thought he'd at least have a place as a guard, with his history. He thought he was worth something to the organisation. He wasn't the hardest criminal, not yet, but he was promising. He'd done the hard work, been taken in by the Boss himself.

Proton was a Rocket.

He wasn't a fucking babysitter.

xxxxx

"It's your turn," Silver scowled at Proton from under the hair he refused to have cut.

"And I'm thinking," the Grunt snarled back; his tone didn't even faze the boy.

"You've been thinking forever."

"That's because chess is a game of patience. Which you have none of, kid."

"No it's not. You need to be smart to win. But you're just sitting there so you don't have to let me win again."

"Quit the superiority act, kid, I'm older than you and I'm smarter than you'll ever be."

"How old are you?" Silver asked.

"What?"

"How old are you?"

"Why does it matter?"

The boy shrugged.

"Twenty three." Proton rolled his eyes.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Have your turn."

"Why 'oh'?"

"Have your turn." Silver scowled again.

"What's wrong with being twenty three?"

"I'm bored."

"Good." Proton stood up and flipped the board as he walked away. "I hate this fucking job."

"Why?" Silver was all too used to being hit with flying chess pieces and slipped down to the floor to collect them.

"Why what?"

"Why do you hate this job?"

"Because it means being stuck here with you all day," Proton snarled. He dropped himself onto the couch and switched on the television.

"But isn't that what you get paid for?"

"I get paid to be a Rocket, not to babysit you day after day, after day."

"Not _every_ day, Ariana comes sometimes." Silver sat down on couch as well and stared at the television; the news was on. Again. "She's a lot nicer than you are."

"Are you doing it on purpose now?"

"Doing what?"

"Annoying me."

"I am not!"

"Bullshit you're not." Proton narrowed his eyebrows and turned the volume up.

"Why aren't you nicer like Ariana is?" Silver pouted. It had no effect on Proton.

"Because I don't give a shit about you. The Boss gives me an order, I do it. You know what he told me to do? He told me not to let you out of my sight and not to let you out of this building. I asked him why I couldn't just lock you in your room with some food but no, that's not good enough for the Boss's kid. Someone has to sit with you to make sure you don't get out, and feed you and keep you entertained and who knows what else."

"So why can't Ariana do it?" Silver asked.

"I don't fucking know. You know what, let's go ask her. Or how about we just ring your dad and ask him, huh?" Proton snapped.

"Okay."

"Don't be so _stupid_, I'm not going to call him now. He's in the middle of something."

"What's he doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what's he doing? I know he's doing Team Rocket things and I know he's in Saffron City because I heard him tell someone that they had to go to Saffron City. What's he doing?"

"He's in the middle of some delicate negotiations."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that if we ring him now, he'll probably kill both of us."

"Not me. Maybe just you." Silver said quickly.

"You're seriously overestimating how much he likes you kid." It was difficult for Proton not to laugh at the look his comment had put onto the boy's face.

"At least he likes me better than he likes you."

"Ha, we're not playing that game."

"What game?"

"Just shut up for a while, would you? You just… talk. All the time. Stop it."

"Can I go and read a book in my room? Then you can keep watching TV."

"You can go and get a book and bring it here and read it."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not sitting in a little kid's bedroom while he reads."

"But you can stay here."

"You've got ten seconds to get a book and shut up unless you want to play my game, kid, and trust me. You do _not_ want to play my game." Proton hissed. Silver took the hint and jumped over the arm of the couch, leaving Proton to watch the news in peace.

xxxxx

"Silver!"

"What?"

"Where the _hell_ are you?"

"In my room!"

Silver's eyes went wide when he looked up to see Proton standing in his doorway, kitchen knife in hand.

"W-what?"

"Get to the table."

"Why?"

"Because it's six-thirty and I told you to bring the god damn book out of your room."

"But I've been in here for ages. Why do I have to leave now?"

"Because," Silver's eyes lingered on Proton's hand, tightening its grip on the knife. "I said so."

Silver didn't argue. He dropped the book and did exactly what Proton had told him to do. He sat up at the table and waited for his dinner.

"You know that you're not supposed to leave my sight."

"You said I could get a book."

"Yeah and bring it back out here."

"Why didn't you make me come back out then?"

"Because you were fucking quiet for a change." Proton put down a plate in front of Silver and sat opposite him, knife on the table.

"Ariana says I'm quiet."

"Fuck Ariana, I don't want to hear about her anymore."

"Why do you swear?"

He was playing a game, Proton thought, he had to be. The kid was only eight years old but he wasn't stupid and he wasn't just any kid. His father was in charge of the whole operation and he'd learned a thing or two along the way. The problem, as far as Proton was concerned, was that he was just as much a sneaky rat as his father. It was getting increasingly difficult to tell when the boy was stringing someone along. He enjoyed it in much the same way Proton enjoyed thieving; someone always lost and hell, it was just fun to laugh at them while they were down.

"Why do you think they've left me with you?" Proton asked. He picked up the knife and put it point down onto the table, moving the handle back and forth; a small dent appeared in the wood.

"I dunno, because they didn't have a real job for you?"

Proton laughed.

"They didn't have a real job for me, that's a good one, kid," He leaned forwards and Silver sat his ground, didn't flinch, didn't blink. "You think this is just a joke? Whoever doesn't have anything to do has to watch the Boss's kid? No. Doesn't work like that. I'm working my way up. Only the best get the so called _privilege_ of looking after you, day after day. You know why? You're the only one. You're his only son so he's gonna look out for you. He won't be there for any of your birthdays or anything stupid like that but he'll make sure you're alive. You've got the things you need. Looked after, real well. Doesn't mean he loves you. Just means you're his only heir." He grinned at the look of discomfort on the boy's face. "What's wrong with you?"

Secretly, Proton hoped he was about to cry. It was a cheap trick but being stuck inside all day had sapped a little of his creativity. If making the kid cry was the only choice for some light entertainment then he wasn't opposed to the idea. If he was completely honest with himself then it wasn't a secret at all. If he succeeded in keeping Silver alive he would get a promotion; it was that simple.

"Is this just what I didn't finish eating for dinner yesterday?"

"What?"

"It's got my fork marks in it and everything."

Not for the first time in recent weeks, Proton began to seriously doubt if a promotion was worth more than the satisfaction of just killing the kid right there and then.


	2. Archer

"You're being insufferable."

Silver just stared.

"I don't know what that means," he said after an unnecessarily long pause.

"It means that your disobedience is getting on my last nerve," Archer said and narrowed his eyes at the boy and his ridiculous hair. He was certain that hitting children was frowned on in Saffron City; there were just too many witnesses if anyone tried to complain, or if the kid started to cry. "How old are you now, anyway, ten?"

"I'm six." Silver indicated with the correct amount of fingers.

"Really?"

"Why would I lie about how old I am?"

"I don't know. Why won't you just let someone cut your damn hair?" Archer snapped, earning himself a look of disapproval from an elderly woman as she passed by.

"Because I don't _want_ someone to cut my damn hair."

"Don't swear."

"You did."

"Yeah, but I'm the adult and the one with the extremely poisonous Pokémon in his pocket. Don't swear."

"Okay, fine," Silver scowled. The only good part about having inconsistent babysitters was that none of them cared when he did things one of the others had told him not to do. "Why do I have to get my hair cut if I like it like this?"

"Because your Dad doesn't like it. And since he's the Boss, you're getting a haircut."

"But I'll just tell him I don't want a haircut. He'll listen to me."

"He doesn't have the time."

"But I don't want my hair cut. I like it. It looks like Ariana's hair and I like her the best."

"So I've heard." Archer rolled his eyes. Ariana was all he ever heard about, Ariana and how she was so wonderful in comparison, especially next to Proton. The kid claimed that Proton liked to threaten him with knives – while Proton was likely to do it, he wasn't stupid enough. "What are we supposed to do now then? The only orders I've been given for the last three days are to get your hair cut. We've made it this far today so can we just go in there and get it over with?"

"Nope," Silver said as he shook his head, hair falling into his eyes as he did. He scowled and tucked it back behind his ears.

"Isn't that annoying?"

"Nope."

"Look, Silver, we can do this the easy way or the hard way," Archer said with a sigh. "The easy way is me picking you up right now and carrying you in there kicking and screaming."

"What's the hard way?"

"We'll go home, I'll have Houndoom hold you down and I'll cut it off myself."

Silver paused while he contemplated Archer's threat.

"No you won't."

"Choose, boy."

"I'm not going into that store. Only girls go to places like that."

"Yeah, and you look so tough and manly yourself with that haircut."

"What?" Silver looked perplexed. Archer grabbed him around the waist and tossed him over his shoulder – it was easier than having another argument about walking home.

xxxxx

"No."

"Yes."

"_No_." Silver was more insistent the second time.

"Sit. Down," Archer said through clenched teeth. He slipped the scissors into his back pocket and took a small step forwards. Silver stepped back to maintain the distance between them but felt himself bump into the bathroom wall; he let out a small whimper. "It'll take ten seconds."

"I don't care."

"You brought this on yourself."

"What?"

Silver's eyes flashed with panic as Archer released Houndoom. He knew from previous encounters with the dog that it wasn't necessarily a cruel beast, but it obeyed Archer's every word.

"Hold him still."

There was nowhere for the boy to go once he backed up against the wall. With Houndoom keeping him in place and Archer advancing on him, Silver slid down to the floor with his hands up over his head.

"Leave me alone!"

"I'm just doing my job, boy."

"But I don't want it, I don't, I don't!" He was screaming so loudly that had there been neighbours, they would have surely called the police.

"Hold the _fuck_ still."

It was the cursing that did it. Silver gave a small but audible gasp when Archer swore in frustration, giving the Rocket enough time to grab him by the hair. Twisting the boy's vivid locks, he hacked through the makeshift ponytail at the base of Silver's neck until the hair came loose.

"I said I didn't want it cut!" Silver shouted; Houndoom growled. Archer dropped the fistful of red hair into the bath and narrowed his eyes, silencing the boy once again.

"Now you have another choice to make."

"What?" Silver's voice cracked as he ran his fingers through his hair, hand falling onto his own shoulder when he ran out of length much sooner than he was accustomed to feeling. He cried out when Houndoom snapped at him and curled back up into a ball on the floor, trembling. "Put him away!"

"Are you going to let me fix it or do you want me to take you back into the city again to get it done properly?"

"No, no, no, no, no!"

"Silver!"

"No, go away!"

"Decide!"

"You ruined my hair! Go away!"

"Do you want me to make the choice for you again?"

"No!"

"Then make up your _fucking_ mind." Archer said in a low voice. Silver gave a hysterical sob that echoed off the bathroom tiles and tried to curl back up into a ball. "Now!" He shouted; Houndoom let out a simultaneous snarl.

"The hairdresser! The hairdresser!" Silver cried out hysterically. The hound was returned with a flash of light and he found himself alone on the floor, Archer standing over him, still scowling.

"Get up, wash your face. Then go and get a jacket and be out there," he indicated towards the living room, "in five minutes. I'm not going to listen to any more of your crying, understand?"

Silver nodded and scrambled to his feet when Archer left the bathroom. As much as he wanted to run, to hide in his room until Ariana came back, he knew better than to stay on Archer's bad side for longer than was necessary. With as much self-control as a terrified six-year-old could possibly have, Silver wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve and walked out of the bathroom for his jacket.

xxxxx

"Well, you know kids," Silver didn't like the way Archer sounded when he was trying to be friendly. "They just don't listen when you tell them not to play with scissors."

The hairdresser laughed as she ran her fingers through Silver's hair to examine the damage that had been done.

"It'll be pretty short when I'm done but at least you won't be able to tell that you've cut it yourself," she said. Silver simply nodded. When the hairdresser turned away to collect her scissors, Archer gave him the most vicious glare he could get away with in public. "You alright there?" He nodded again, sitting as still as he could while she pinned up his hair to get to the bottom layers first.

Silver scrunched his eyes closed at the sound of the first _snip_ and refused to open them until he felt the lady brushing stray hairs off his shoulders. "You can open your eyes now kiddo, I'm all done."

Silver couldn't help but let out a pained cry when he saw his own reflection; he unconsciously leaned forwards, towards the mirror.

"What now?"

"My hair doesn't match Ariana's anymore."

Resisting the urge to drag Silver out of the chair by what remained of his hair, Archer considered what the reaction would be if he asked to be demoted.


	3. Ariana

Ariana knew that the job she had been given was well above her station. She was still just a Grunt, despite almost a year with the organisation. She was in no way qualified for the task but it had been given to her by the Boss himself and she wasn't stupid enough to reject such an offer. The task was simple, probably the simplest job a Rocket could have, but she accepted the position humbly and without complaint.

"Oh, look at you, baby," she cooed softly. She had forgotten how old little Silver was – the Boss didn't have time for details about his son – but she knew he was somewhere around eighteen months. The boy stared up at her with his grey eyes and blinked. He hadn't been awake for very long. "I'm sorry I haven't been here for a while, but your Dad decided to give me a break and I got to do some of those fun little crimes that we get up to when the police aren't watching."

Ariana reached over the bars of the boy's crib and lifted him up and over. Tiny fingers ran over her nose as Silver recognised her face, her hair, her smell. He made a string of noises and Ariana laughed softly. "You need a bath, don't you? If I know the others half as well as I think I do, they wouldn't have given you one for days, would they?" She walked out of the room with the boy in her arms, listening as he talked nonsense to himself.

xxxxx

"No, no, we've been through this before," she smiled. "They go in your mouth, not your hair." Ariana sighed and wiped Silver's fingers clean. "See what happens when they send me out to do the dirty work? I forget to feed you _before_ your bath." The boy just reached for another handful of peas.

Ariana picked up her own fork again and continued to eat from the plate in front of her. She smiled at Silver and made faces at him once in a while – he responded by trying to imitate her expressions. "Are you ever going to be a heartbreaker when you're older. Heir to Team Rocket, those gorgeous eyes and no doubt you'll be a smooth talker just like your daddy," she said. "Unfortunately for you, I don't think the ladies go for the 'peas in the hair' look, so you need another bath."

xxxxx

Laughter echoed through the room as Ariana launched a furious tickle attack on Silver's stomach. After two baths, a meal and almost an hour of running around the house just because they could, the boy was exhausted. She was worried about putting him to bed so soon after his nap but when he'd walked into the table and started to cry, she knew that it wasn't really a choice anymore. "Oh, you think that's funny? Does it tickle?" she asked. "Okay, now it's bedtime for you."

She picked Silver up from the floor and lifted him back into his crib. He looked at her, the confusion obvious in his eyes. "Don't give me that look, you know I can't just give in," she sighed. "Goodnight, baby." Ariana ran a finger over his cheek and fixed his blanket. He didn't cry when she pulled the door around; it was open, just enough, for her to hear him if he stirred. She went back to the living room and sat alone on the couch, the TV her only company. She closed her eyes for a moment, just a quick moment, just long enough to gather her thoughts.

xxxxx

Ariana didn't know what time it was when she woke up, all she knew was that the television had been turned off and there was someone sitting on the couch with her.

"You fell asleep."

"Sorry Boss," she squeaked.

"Was he too difficult for you to deal with?"

"No. I'm just tired."

"Am I giving you too much to do?"

"No."

"You can sleep there. You only need to come back in the morning anyway."

"Yes Boss," she said and felt the weight shift from by her feet.

If she'd been anyone else, Ariana knew that she would have been forcibly removed not only from the building but from Team Rocket as well. But for so many reasons she was the exception to the rule, and she knew it. Even such a brief conversation with the Boss left her shaken, unable to get back to sleep, so she simply waited. She waited for the morning, for the noise of the Boss leaving again, for the noise of Silver babbling a string of letters that sounded oddly like her name.


	4. Petrel

**Just a quick note to say that yes, yes I do allow anonymous reviews because of the fact these fics get posted in the FFA's /vp/ threads first and I'm aware that not everyone has accounts.  
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><p>The Silph Co. disaster had been a huge blow for Team Rocket. Their plans had fallen apart and no matter how furiously they worked to gain back their reputation, the damage had already been done. Beaten by a child, a mere child, the organisation had been disbanded. The hideouts were all cleared out and possessions sold or traded on the black market. Buildings they had occupied were left abandoned. Pokémon had been set free without any regard for public safety. Team Rocket was no more. But in his haste to disband the gang, Giovanni had forgotten something. It was something small and so often overlooked, despite its importance. Something he rarely thought about.<p>

Silver had been taken from his bed by the Admins only ten minutes before the police arrived at their Saffron City hideout.

xxxxx

"What's wrong today?"

"Nothing."

"You sure?"

"I'm fine."

"You're staring out that window again."

"I like looking out the window. I can see the ocean."

"Since when have you liked the ocean?"

Silver shrugged. Three years he'd lived in Goldenrod City and not once had he thought about why he liked to stare at the ocean. Maybe it was as simple as the fact it was all he saw out of his bedroom window. Maybe he just liked staring and the ocean happened to be there. Petrel rolled his eyes from the doorway.

"Can I go out today?"

"I don't think so, kiddo."

"Why not?"

"The others are busy."

"I can go by myself."

"Yeah, sure. I'll let you out into Goldenrod alone."

"I can get out."

"How?"

"Through the front door."

"I've got the keycard, sorry kiddo."

"I'm never allowed out."

"Y'know we're just following orders, right?" Petrel slumped a little against the door frame.

"No you're not."

"'Don't let him out of your sight'," he said. "None of us heard any orders about you after that."

"It doesn't count since he broke up Team Rocket when he ran away."

"He didn't run away, he's…" Petrel thought about it for a moment, "in hiding."

"How did I get here then?"

"Now you're fucking with me, aren't you? Trying to get me to agree with you so you can throw it back in my face until I let you out?"

"Maybe." Silver turned back to the window in time to hide his smile.

"Well, when you're done crying for today come out here and we'll do something to kill a few hours." Petrel pushed himself off the door frame and turned to leave. He heard Silver mutter something about not crying followed by the thud of a book hitting the wall.

xxxxx

"Why are you dressed like that?"

"It's called a disguise, genius."

"Why are you in disguise?" Silver corrected himself. He was beginning to wonder just why he'd been so desperate to go outside in the first place – there was nothing in Johto that could compare to the bustling atmosphere of Saffron City. Goldenrod was a city, there was no doubt in his mind about that, but it was a small city and it only even made him want to go home.

"Because it's what I do."

"You look like an idiot."

"Says you, Ariana Junior."

"Hey, shut up." Silver scowled and tried desperately to cover his hair protectively; it only made Petrel laugh harder. "Where are we going?"

"Where do you want to go?"

"I get a choice?"

"Not really. We can go up to the park or see a movie."

"That's it?"

"Don't push your luck kiddo, you never know what'll happen if you do."

"Yes I do. You'll laugh at me, tell the others, they'll laugh at you and me, Proton will yell at someone and then Ariana will tell everyone to shut the hell up."

"When's that ever happened?"

"Three times last week."

"No it didn't."

"Yes it did."

"Third time _Archer_ told everyone to shut up." Petrel said smugly.

"Can we go to the movies?" Silver asked. He kicked a rock with the toe of his boots and watched as it hit the Furret walking beside her trainer. He let out a snicker that didn't go unnoticed by Petrel, who quickly dragged him around the next corner.

"Come on, kiddo, what's the first thing we've always taught you?"

"'Don't get caught for the little things'," Silver recited, his boredom obvious. "Movies?"

xxxxx

"You've been in here for like, three hours. You haven't died, have you?" Petrel joked. He pushed open the door to Silver's room to find the boy sitting on his bed, book open on his knees and a blanket over his feet.

"No."

"You're not bored?"

"Not right now."

"You know you're reading that book upside down?"

"Wh – yes." Silver faltered, only momentarily, but long enough for Petrel to raise an eyebrow at him. "What?" he snapped.

"So you heard me coming and grabbed the book, but what were you doing before that you didn't want me to see, huh?"

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"You know I lie."

"Yeah, you shouldn't. Stop lying." Petrel waved a hand dismissively as his eyes skimmed over the room. "Are you hiding any people in here?"

"No."

"No girls?"

"No."

"Pokémon?"

"No."

"Why's your window open?"

"For air."

"Sea air?"

"Yeah." Silver flipped his book the right way up.

"At this time of year?"

"I like air. It's good for breathing."

"Genius, kiddo, absolutely genius. I'm going to call the others and make sure someone brings home some cake so we can celebrate the genius that is you." Petrel chuckled while the boy scowled at him. He was in the room by then, picking up objects and putting them down in different places, kicking aside shoes, touching everything he passed.

"Shut up and get out of my room."

"I'm getting close then?"

"No."

"You got anything in these drawers here that I should know about?"

"Hey, those are mine, stop it!"

"So I am close, huh?"

"I mean it, get out!" Silver threw the book down and scrambled off his bed to try and stop Petrel from opening the third drawer down. "Stop th…"

"Silver."

"What?"

"You know that Team Rocket is a criminal organisation, right?"

"Of course I do, I'm not stupid."

"So you know that I know what this is, right?" Petrel held up a small black pouch.

"Yes." Silver muttered to himself.

"So whose locks have you been picking?"

"No one's. I mean, not anyone specific. Just any. I broke the front door lock last year."

"That was you?"

"Yeah."

"You really fucked up that lock, kiddo. Really fucked it up."

"Sorry?"

"Are you really sorry?"

"No?"

"I didn't think so." Petrel put the kit back into the drawer and closed it before he sat down on the floor, opposite where Silver was sitting on the edge of his bed. "You wear gloves?" Silver nodded. "Every time?" Another nod. "You know I can't exactly tell you off because picking locks was my job for the first six months I spent with Team Rocket?" Nod. "You know what'd happen if Archer found out, right?"

"Don't tell Archer!" Silver blurted out. "Not Archer."

"Hey, relax kiddo, I just told you I'm not in any position to get you in trouble," Petrel said.

"You will too."

"Hey, if I tell Archer, guess who's going to get shit from Archer because he didn't do anything to stop you? Me. When've you been sneaking out?"

"Mostly at night. It's not hard."

"Have you been doing anything else?"

"No."

"What, no graffiti?"

"No."

"No murders, no breaking windows," Silver was shaking his head as Petrel spoke, "…no stealing?"

"What?"

"Ha! Got you. What've you been stealing then?"

"Nothing. I told you, I just pick locks for fun."

"Liar. C'mon, tell me."

"No."

"Silver, come on. You know if you don't tell me, it'll be Archer or Proton that figure it out and then you'll have some serious shit to deal with."

"But you won't tell them."

"I won't tell them, but they'll find out."

"No they won't."

"Tell me, kiddo. Because the one person I will tell is going to be pretty disappointed as it is."

"Don't tell Ariana!" Silver exclaimed.

"Tell me."

Petrel watched as Silver slipped off the edge of his bed and opened the bottom drawer. He rummaged around through socks and undershirts until he found what he was looking for; he withdrew his hand from the drawer.

"You swear you won't tell?"

"Like I said kiddo, they'd kill me before going after you."

"Not even Ariana?"

Petrel shook his head. Silver slowly held out his hand and produced a Pokéball, shrunken down into its standby mode.

"…you stole a Pokémon?"

Silver nodded.

"From where?"

"The lab." He said quietly.

"The lab? Shit Silver, the lab in New Bark Town? That was on the news last week!"

"They didn't catch me." He grinned, wider than Petrel had ever seen him grin before.

"You should probably try to keep it that way." Petrel said slowly, choosing his words carefully. For all the pride he felt towards the boy's actions, he was equally uneasy about this most recent development. "Stick to the small things, okay? No more break ins."

"Fine." Silver returned the Pokéball to the drawer and closed it before he went back to sitting on his bed. "You can leave now."

"Wow, thanks, kiddo." Petrel said sarcastically as he stood up from the floor. "I mean it though."

"So do I," Silver pointed to his bedroom door and Petrel decided it was for the best to humour the boy. He left the room, pulling the door closed behind him, leaving Silver to his own devices.

The executives had always known it was inevitable that the boy would turn to petty crime as a source of entertainment; it was in his blood.


	5. Giovanni

**This is the final chapter of this fic and I'd appreciate it if you could leave a brief review, if you're up to it. These chapters have spawned a side-fic, which expands on a few of the little details I've skimmed over in this story, it should be done in the coming weeks. Thanks a lot, to everyone, for reading and I hope this last chapter is at least half as entertaining as the others.**

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><p>Silver had started to fidget. He knew he was expected to sit still, to pay attention, to wait patiently to be spoken to before he did anything. He'd been sitting in the office for too long and was tired of staring at the ugly paintings on the walls. The carpet was ugly, the office was dull, and Persian kept hissing at him, he wasn't even provoking him this time. He was just bored.<p>

"Can I go now?"

"I asked for you to be here."

"I'm bored."

"Obviously." Giovanni finally looked up from the mountain of paperwork on his desk and stared coldly at the small boy sitting opposite him. "As you probably know, next Wednesday is your fifth birthday."

"I'll be five," Silver held up his hand. "I can use all my fingers now, see?"

"Yes. You know that on this day you have my attention for a full afternoon and therefore you are able to decide what you would like to spend that time doing. You have the rest of the day to think about it and are to tell Ariana what you choose. She will pass the information to me. Understood?"

Silver frowned across the desk and narrowed his eyebrows, stuck in as deep in thought as a four year old could be.

"I don't understand," he said eventually.

"You don't understand."

"Nope. Why can't I just tell you?"

"Because I have far too many things to deal with this week as it is without adding you to that list. Who's looking after you today?"

"Petrel," Silver answered the question cheerfully. Petrel had been babysitting him for almost two weeks.

"You can tell Petrel to take you home now."

"Okay."

"Silver?"

"Yeah?" Silver couldn't help but sound hopeful when Giovanni spoke again.

"Don't leave your belongings out where anyone can trip over them tonight. You do _not_ want to know what the consequences will be if you forget."

"Yes, sir," he said and ran out of the office to find Petrel; not only was it a boring place to be but it was one that scared him, he knew the kind of people that worked in those offices.

xxxxx

"Silver!" Giovanni barked his son's name down the hallway. He didn't know if the boy was even awake let alone dressed for the day. He waited, impatiently, tapping his foot and glancing up at the clock. "Silver!" He shouted again, "I don't have time for this right now!"

"What?" Silver appeared pyjama-clad in his doorway, one hand trying to flatten his hair while the other clutched a stuffed Dragonite. "I was sleeping."

"It's after 9am, you should be awake by now. I have to attend to Gym business today, I'll be gone until sometime this evening."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"But…" Silver gave a small pout. "It's my birthday. You promised."

"Sometimes promises get broken. I don't choose when to attend to the Gym."

"Yes you do, you're the Boss."

"I don't choose when challengers come along."

"But the Gym closes early, will you be home after the Gym closes?"

"I have other business to attend to."

"Like what?" Silver's demanding tone cause Giovanni to raise a questioning eyebrow.

"Don't ask questions."

"It's Team Rocket stuff, isn't it?"

"Perhaps."

"It is."

"How do you know that?"

"Because Team Rocket stuff is always more important than me."

Giovanni was taken off guard by such a harsh comment coming from the mouth of a child. The boy didn't sound upset, he didn't look like he was about to cry. He didn't turn to leave but he didn't seem to be expecting an answer, either, and Giovanni knew that was the worst part about the statement. Silver was right. He was only just five years old and he knew that, for his own father, business came first. It had always come first and in that moment, both father and son knew it always would.

xxxxx

Ariana only left her spot by the fridge when she heard the door slam. Giovanni had walked out without giving her so much as a reminder of what day it was. She stepped into the hall and walked down to where Silver was standing by the doorway to his bedroom. She smiled and knelt in front of him, brushed back his dishevelled hair and zipped up the hoodie that she assumed he'd put on when Giovanni had shouted his name.

"Happy Birthday, baby."

"I don't think he's going to take me to Fuchsia City."

"Why'd you want to go there anyway?"

"To see the zoo again," Silver said as he shifted uncomfortably, tightening his grip on Dragonite.

"I got you something."

"Really?"

"Of course, baby, you're five now. That's pretty grown up," Ariana said with a smile. "Come on, let's have some breakfast and then we'll find something exciting to do today."

Silver hesitated but took her hand when she offered it; she led him back to the kitchen and helped him up onto one of the tall stools by the counter. He sat as patiently as he could while she poured him a bowl of cereal.

"What did you get me?"

"Hm?"

"You said you got me something!"

"Oh, did I?" Ariana laughed. "You can keep secrets, can't you?"

"Better than anyone else."

"Good, because I want you to keep this a secret from your Dad, okay? It's for you, not him."

Silver watched as Ariana sat up on the stool next to him and reached into her pocket. She took out a small box and handed it to the boy, who simply stared.

"What is it?"

"I've known your Dad and the rest of Team Rocket for a long time, baby. It used to be your mother's. I found it a little while ago and since your Dad's too busy to care, I thought you might want to hold on to it." Ariana watched as Silver opened the box and stared at the ring inside, running his fingers over the cool metal before he snapped the lid shut again. "You should hide it in your room somewhere. Somewhere only you can find it."

"Okay," Silver couldn't help but sound a little disappointed.

"Oh baby, you think that I'd just give you an old ring for your birthday?" Ariana laughed at his expression. "I thought I'd take you out and let you pick some new books. You've read all the old ones. And then," she continued, smiling as his eyes lit up, "I thought we'd have pancakes for dinner since there's no way your Dad's going to be home before dinnertime. What do you think?"

"Okay," Silver said. It was all he could say. Despite his young age, Silver knew better than to expect his father to come good on any promises he made. As much fun as he knew that he would have with Ariana, he couldn't help wishing that for once, just once, his father would prove him wrong. Come home from the Gym early, forget about Team Rocket for a few hours, sit with him and Ariana and eat pancakes for dinner.

Even as Silver laughed throughout the afternoon and clutched her hand as they walked through the streets of Celadon, so far from home, giggling like a happy child should, she could see through the mask that one so young shouldn't have been forced to wear.

The boy was so like his father already that Ariana could see what he was hiding, knew it long before he did. She had seen that expression before, many years ago, identical to the expression on his father's face. Except this time the circumstances were different, this time is was worse; Giovanni was not the one experiencing, but inflicting, the heartbreak.


End file.
